


rain.

by boppgoestheweasel



Series: the dadschlatt collection [15]
Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, DadSchlatt, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Kid Tubbo, More Hurt Than Comfort, Quackity needs a mf hug, maybe ooc?, no beta we die like men, quackity central, rain storms, uncle quackity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-12 22:13:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29017986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boppgoestheweasel/pseuds/boppgoestheweasel
Summary: storms outside are a lot more excitable than the storms within the mind.
Relationships: Alexis | Quackity & Jschlatt, Alexis | Quackity & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Jschlatt & Toby Smith | Tubbo, No Slash - Relationship
Series: the dadschlatt collection [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2080011
Comments: 16
Kudos: 224





	rain.

**Author's Note:**

> hello! this was more self-indulgent, but it's a small continuation from the last part, so if you haven't read that yet, i suggest you do! 
> 
> As always, anything I write is solely based on the characters portrayed in the Dream SMP roleplay, never the real people! However if any CCs are uncomfortable with anything I have written, it will be deleted immediately.

It felt like days upon days, the last 24 hours. Maybe it was because Quackity hadn’t slept, or showered, or had much water to drink. Maybe it was because the dim fluorescent lighting of Schlatt’s hospital room fucked with his mind. Maybe it was because he knew Schlatt was in that shitty hospital room without any company besides the nurses and doctors, being pricked with needles and fed supplements of medicine every now and then- he would be spending his nights alone in a cold, white room for the next few days, maybe even weeks; the doctor wasn’t too happy about what she found out about Schlatt, combined with what he  _ looked  _ like. She said he would be in there for a bit.

Obviously he was in good care, Quackity wasn’t so worried about that. He was more worried about Schlatt being lonely. Yes, they had visiting hours from 10-4, but the nights were always the hardest for Schlatt. At least when he’s home, he has Tubbo to cling to when Quackity isn’t there.

But a doctor won’t give him a hug if he wakes up after a night terror. 

When Quackity was told he had to go home after spending the whole day with Schlatt in the hospital, he was truly devastated. Did he really think he could just stay there the whole time? With a toddler? He had reluctantly left, thanking the nurses and the doctors on the way out, clutching to Tubbo as much as he could without squeezing the boy too hard. Tubbo was sleeping- the kid did that when he was stressed out. No, he didn’t really know what was going on, but he definitely knew something was up. Any kid would know something wasn’t right being in a place like the hospital. 

It’s so bleak there.

Quackity stopped by Schlatt’s house to grab some things, such as Tubbo’s pillows and blankets and some toys of his. The boy wasn’t awake, so Quackity just grabbed what he thought was best and left. If Tubbo needed or wanted something, they could always come back and get it.

Why was he so sick to his stomach? Why did he always feel like he was going to cry about the situation? Anytime he glanced to the backseat to see Tubbo soundly sleeping, his heart would ache, and he wasn’t sure why. Was it because this was his nightmare come true? Schlatt nearly dying and having Tubbo placed in his care? No, Schlatt wasn’t  _ actually dead  _ but he was pretty fucking close, and it messed with his thoughts as he drove home. 

It was incredibly overcast as he pulled into his driveway- it was bound to rain any moment now. The air was crisp and smelt like rain; he loved the smell and feeling. Rain was just one of those silly things that got Quackity excited for nothing… sure, water falls from the sky all the damn time this time of year every year but something about it was just nice to him. But in the moment that was right now, as he held a sleeping Tubbo close to his person and walked up to his front door, there was nothing excitable about it. It was just cold and damp. 

He placed Tubbo on the couch and dropped his keys onto the kitchen table. He didn’t bother checking the time, but he definitely knew that Tubbo would wake up hungry. Before he could cook though, he went to the bathroom to take a brisk shower before the child woke up.

Quackity was surprised when he looked in the mirror and didn’t see too much of a corpse. He felt terrible- he thought he looked it as well. Sure, his eyes were tired and swollen, hair more messy than usual under his beanie, but other than that he didn’t look too destroyed. It wasn’t like he had been crying for days, even if it felt like it. 

The shower was a good call, because as he stepped out of the bathroom, the cold air hit him like a truck. He hadn’t realized how damn cold his house was until he was engulfed in the warm water; Tubbo was probably freezing half to death.

_ Tubbo. _

Hopeful that he wasn’t awake, Quackity sucked in a breath and walked into the living room, trying to keep his wings from fidgeting. Much to his reassurance, the toddler was still sleeping soundly on the couch, curled into himself. He didn’t have his bee- for once- because he insisted that it stayed with his dad. That was sweet. 

He let out his breath and waltzed into the kitchen, trying to stay as calm as possible. In reality, there really was no good reason for Quackity to be so discombobulated… but there also was. Schlatt was a bit of a staple in his life, and now the staple was shaking loose, bending out of his paper. Without him there, he would scatter around the ground, blown away with the wind. That wasn’t a great fate. It was silly, really, how much people relied on others to get by in life, whether it be for funds or for friendship, which for Quackity was the latter. He needed Schlatt in his life, someone to laugh and cry with. Someone to listen to the rain with.

No person could ever be alone, he was always taught. That one quote from the Muppets’ Christmas Carol… “If you need to know the measure of a man, you simply count his friends.” No, Quackity did not have many friends, but the ones he did have were ones to keep. The ones you don’t fall out of touch with are the ones that matter the most. And Schlatt was very obviously one of those people- Quackity had been clinging onto him since he was a middle schooler.

His thoughts were wildly interrupted as a shrill cry erupted from the room beside the kitchen. Quackity had been so lost in thought, leaning against the cold countertop of the kitchen interior that he hadn’t even thought about the storm outside. He had even forgotten it was raining.

“Tubbster? What’s up buddy?” He asked rushed, sleep lacing his voice. God, he was so damn tired. All this worry and for nothing probably, Schlatt would be out of the hospital in days. 

“It… the-” Tubbo wasn’t able to finish his sentence as a loud crash ricocheted in the sky a little bit away from them. The boy yelped and grabbed onto Quackity, who was sitting beside him in confusion. 

“Oh…,” The duck hybrid smiled a bit in realization. “Does the thunder scare you, bud?”

Tubbo only nodded against Quackity’s side, as his face was buried deep in the man’s sweatshirt.

“You know,” Quackity spoke gently as he pulled Tubbo into his lap, “I used to be afraid of it, too. But there’s really nothing to be afraid of.”

Tubbo didn’t look up at Quackity- he only sniffled.

“It’s definitely a scary sound, but you know what I was always told growing up?” Quackity asked, trying to pull the boy from his paralyzation.

And it worked; Tubbo looked up in question.

“Well, do you know what bumper cars are?”

Tubbo nodded. “You and Papa took me to play with ‘em one day.”

“Okay, well, picture the clouds in the sky,” Quackity pointed towards the window, “bumping around. They’re trying to get the best spot to watch the show called  _ Earth,  _ and it’s pretty crowded up there. So they’re bumping into each other, and it makes that loud boom sound.”

“They’re just bumping into each other?” 

“Yes! That’s all it is.”

“Are they watching us right now?” Tubbo asked in wonder.

“Ummm, I’m not really sure. They could be watching anyone.”

“What about Papa? Are they watching him?”

Quackity smiled. “Maybe they are, maybe they’re watching him for us.”

Tubbo nodded, and continued to look at Quackity as the man gazed out the window. 

“It sounds like drums.”

“Huh?” Quackity looked down at Tubbo.

“Drums. How the rains dance on the roof.”

“Are they dancing?” Quackity asked.

“Yeah. Papa tells me they’re like at a party, dancing with each others.” Tubbo fiddled with the strings on Quackity’s hoodie. 

“Oh,” Quackity almost laughed. What a fun analogy.

The two sat in silence, listening as the rain pelted the building that inhabited them.

“Uncle Quackity?”

“Yes, Tubbo?”

“Is Papa gonna die?”

The room fell silent, the warmth that once filled the atmosphere completely gone now, even if the kid didn’t mean to deplete it. 

That was an intense question.

“Uh,” Quackity felt his throat get tight. “No. No, I don’t think so. At least… not now. He’s okay now.”

Tubbo’s expression was still sad as he looked at Quackity’s wings droop a bit. “I miss him. When can we see him again?”

“I’m not entirely sure kiddo, but I’m sure it’ll be really soon. We can probably see him tomorrow.” Quackity tried to smile, but it really just looked like a grimace. While he wasn’t completely lying, he would never tell Tubbo how scary the situation really was. He probably wouldn’t even understand, and a kid soo young doesn’t even need to consider pondering his dad’s death.

“But guess what? We’re gonna make your time here super fun! We can go to the park, we can skate, and we can get ice-cream!” Quackity enthused. 

Tubbo’s sad expression lifted into one of happiness as he looked up at the man. “We get ice-cream now?”

“Ah, not tonight buddy. I don’t even think any places are open at this time anyway. We need sleep.”

Another loud crash was spiraled into the air, and Tubbo tensed up, grabbing onto Quackity’s sweater. 

“Remember what I said about the clouds?” 

Tubbo nodded, his lip quivering, ears practically hugging his face.

“They’re just having fun.” 

The boy seemed to relax but kept his grip on Quackity. 

“Are you too scared to sleep out here on your own?” Quackity asked, looking down at the slightly shaking child. 

Tubbo nodded, leaning against his shoulder. 

“Okay, well then you can sleep in my room with me. How does that sound? That way you won’t be so scared.”

Tubbo thought for a moment before he nodded. Quackity couldn’t even imagine what the boy could be thinking, processing right now. A giant storm and his father is in the hospital? Jesus Christ.

Quackity cooked up some food before he got Tubbo ready for bed. Tubbo was a very easy kid to take care of- he never really whined, never put up a fight, and he was overall very happy. Quackity had put on a movie for the boy to watch as he cooked something quick and wasn’t surprised to see that the lad had completely forgotten about the huge storm outside. Quackity wished he could forget about his troubles that easily.

He laid Tubbo in his bed and gave the boy enough space to sprawl out, even if he would probably just stay curled up in a small ball the whole night. Quackity willed himself to sleep, closed his eyes-- but nothing ever came of his attempts. The rain was loud and relentless, almost like his never ending thoughts.

Unable to sit still for much longer, he slowly moved himself out of bed, careful not to wake Tubbo, and made his way out to the living room. It was deathly silent- obviously, considering the only things awake were the rain and Quackity himself. He wondered if Schlatt was still awake, or if he finally got some sleep for once. He doubted it; even  _ he  _ wouldn’t sleep in that place soundly. 

He wondered if Schlatt was listening to the pitter-patters of the rain too. The thought brought Quackity closer to the man, almost as if they were listening together in the same presence, same atmosphere. That’s what they would be doing.

Sometimes Quackity didn’t think he was doing enough for Schlatt. He could force food into the man’s home, he could demand that he lends money… be he knows that would kill Schlatt’s pride. Schlatt was always one to want to do things for himself, by himself, and without help, even if he needed it.

It was almost unfair, Quackity thought, how he was left to suffer because of Schlatt’s suffering and the fact that he didn’t care for himself. Quackity  _ knew  _ Schlatt cared for him, but the man really could care less about himself. Hopefully after this instance he would finally open his eyes and realize that some people count on him to keep breathing.

To keep listening to the rain by their sides. Just like they used to do before shit got crazy, when the biggest inconvenience was just a storm.

Now there’s tons, but instead brewing on the inside. 

And the clouds were never having fun. 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!! sorry if it seemed rushed in any way, it was just a very quick thing I thought up! usually I would ask fro requests here, but I have quite a few in the works already... be expecting a bunch of angst and very soon my friends. 
> 
> BUT I would love to hear (and steal cough cough) any headcanons you may have for this dadschlatt group in my stories! I want to incorporate Karl more... some for him would be cool! <3 thank you for all your support!


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